An epic road trip with my tween set me on a path to uncover perfection in fatherhood — and how my father’s suicide didn’t doom me to recreate his mistakes. Stealing Home is the story of an 11-day, 9-game road trip I took with my Little Leaguer — and how my plans for perfection delivered things much deeper than scores, miles, and smiles. You don't have to drive 3,147 miles to find your way to fatherhood. When I did, something magical and rare appeared at the end of the journey, inside my heart as well as on a diamond. As a divorced dad, I was trying to redeem my fatherhood with a baseball road trip with my Little League son Nicky. Our odyssey of nine games in eleven days, crossing eight states in a rented convertible, was supposed to salvage my life as an unsure father. Custody Dad fatherhood demoted me to the second team. I was certain of that. One sign of salvation came unbidden in an unscheduled tenth ballgame. The adventures and revelations of the road led to a deeper reckoning of how my father had failed enough at his fatherhood to take his own life. Thousands of miles and dozens of innings delivered a discovery: a drive toward perfect fatherhood has a destination that cannot be found on any map.